Ashes to Ashes
by Katie Coleman
Summary: The evil that had intruded in his life so long ago returned to take what was left of Dean's world.
1. Part One

Needless to say, I own nothing that you recognize. Actually, let's just say I owned the forest where Dean took John. That'll do.

Just a little piece of mine, written from ideas caused by a Supernaturally disturbed mind as I was RPG'ing on my website. Don't really know how happy I am with it yet. I might write a prequel and/or a sequel, depending on its popularity.

'_What would have happened if John had died in the car accident at the end of Season One?'_

"**Ashes to Ashes" **

The nauseating screech of damaged metal echoed as the car's wreckage rolled to a halt some distance away from the offending vehicle. Inside, all three of her patrons lay, unconscious from the impact of the collision, all three now fighting for his own life instead of only the one that had been critically injured before.

The words that the youngest had spoken of the hospital being "only ten minutes away" had been lost, now irrelevant and unimportant to any of them as their lives hung in the balance. In cold stillness of the night, the eldest brother was the first to wake from his cataleptic state, eyes opening slowly to reveal the disaster to him. With a sharp gasp, he moved his eyes upward to check on his brother and father. Sammy, although bloodied and unmoving, appeared to be alive and, as ironic as it might have sounded, safe. The eldest Winchester, on the other hand, appeared pale and even more so lifeless than the one jammed in beside him. Dean knew in an instant that he was dead, or at the least, very close to it.

Surprisingly, the back door of the Impala swung open easily, and, blinded by pain, Dean staggered out into the road. The pain in his chest and lungs increasing at every step, he slowly made his way around to his father side of the car.

Opening the front passenger's side door proved more of a challenge, but after struggling with it for a moment or so it finally sprung open, John's limp body slumping towards his youngest son. His mind still blank, the realization of the crash yet to sink in, Dean lifted his father's body from the car and laid him on the icy bitumen road. He slipped his fingers around John's wrist to feel for a pulse, but his efforts were not met with good news. John had died in the minuscule amount of time that it had taken Dean to lever the door open—and the eldest remaining Winchester knew what had to be done.

Trembling with shock, Dean wrapped his weakened arms around his father and hoisted his lifeless body onto his own shoulders, not sparing one look back at the wreckage as he walked away.


	2. Part Two

Needless to say, I own nothing that you recognize. Actually, let's just say I owned the forest where Dean took John. That'll do.

Picking up from where the last chapter left off. Bear in mind that Dean didn't show too many emotions last chapter, and that he was simply acting in soldier mode because that was all that he knew how to do at the time due to the shock. Hope this is angstyliscious enough for you :)

"**Ashes to Ashes" **

Part Two

Heavy footsteps drudged across the side of the hill, the moist, green grass crumpling under the weight of mud-clad work boots. Drenched in sweat and blood, Dean shook under the weight of his father's limp body upon his shoulders, bared skin numb with cold in the midst the bitter night. His thoughts traveled back to Sam, trapped between the steering wheel and driver's seat of his beloved Chevrolet, comatose against the happenings of that fateful night.

The irony of his father's death began to dawn on him as he continued his journey deeper into the woods that would soon become the hunter's final entombment—to be killed by anything less than the same thing he had tried to slay not an hour before obviously stood as nothing more than a joke to their adversary. It was not until this thought crossed his mind that the tears began to trickle down Dean's scarred and bloodied face, hitting the soft brown earth beneath his feet with no more acknowledgement than the small ants that tracked across the path in front of him.

Growing weary, his eyes clouded with tears and his judgment with pain, Dean let his father's body slip from his grasp, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He heaved the man by his cold and lifeless hands until he lay, his head propped up by a smooth, moss-covered rock. Dean reached forward, and with two fingers, slid John's eyelids closed.

His breath hitched in his throat as the tears still streamed freely down his face as Dean covered his father's body in gasoline from the spare container in the trunk, sprinkled salt upon him, and threw a lit match from the matchbox that he had used so many times to burn so many other forms of evil.

He unleashed the sobs that had been echoing his heart into the cruel silence of the night as the flame took to John's body, an inferno of heat and smoke escaping into the darkness.


	3. Part Three

Needless to say, I own nothing that you recognize. Actually, let's just say I owned the forest where Dean took John. That'll do.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. Hope this life up to expectations!

"**Ashes to Ashes" **

Part Three

"D—Dean…?" His brother's name slipped easily from his lips, his eyes opening slowly to uncover the traumatic scene. The persistent screech of emergency sirens rang out around him, the noise throbbing through Sam's head as he struggled to turn his neck towards them.

Dark faces crowded around the wreckage, eyed set in determination as they studied the debris. "Easy there," One of them spoke, his tone soft and kind, "you'll be out of there in no time. Just try to stay still for us, okay?" Another figure approached the car, a heavy, metal object held tightly in his hands. Sam's thoughts, albeit fragmented and painful, immediately shot to his elder brother's reaction when he found out what they'd have done to his 'baby'.

"Easy," A voice shot as the debris rocked forward. "Don't want to cause any more damage." Sam took a sharp gasp of air, the sudden movement jolting his spine and neck. Cold air rushed into the Impala as the door broke away, falling to the ground with a soft 'thump'. In moments, Sam had been hauled from the wreckage, his body wrenching in pain as the paramedics lay him gently on a gurney. The man with the kind voice bent over him, shining a small torch-light into his eyes. "Can you tell me your name, son?" He asked.

Sam's bottom lip quivered with the iciness of the night's air, and his mind blanked from any thought other than that of his elder brother. "D—Dean…"

"Dean, is it, then?" The man questioned, and Sam had neither the energy nor will power to correct him. "Okay, Dean. The hospital's only ten minutes away, try to relax for us." Any irony in his words was lost as Sam slipped back into unconsciousness. The comforting grasps of nothingness enveloping him as the sirens blurred in his mind, and all thought was lost.

…

The blood on Dean's hands and clothes began to dry as staggered back to the car, the cold air stinging at each wound on his exposed flesh. His body grew weaker with every step, his strength lessening as he pushed through the pain to quicken his pace. The blurry image of his brother's body trapped limply in the driver's seat burned on his mind, and the urgency in his stride grew to pure desperation.

The icy night air rasped in every breath, his chest threatening to explode if he didn't stop to rest, but he couldn't. The mangled metal frame of the car drew into sight, and his heart began to pound heavily in his chest. Guilt panged in the back of his mind, his father's voice demanding how he could have left Sam alone in such a vulnerable position. His pace faltered, imagining that look of utter disappointment on his father's face. But John was dead, and Sam…

Dean's paused, his eyes widening as he searched for the rugged silhouette of his brother in the wreckage. The driver's seat where Sam should have been was torn and blanketed in blood, but empty.

"Oh, God." He breathed, hand slumping against the collapsed door. "Oh God, oh god… SAM!"


	4. Part Four

A/N: And here's our twist of the classic Supernatural 'weirdness'. Hope you enjoy—and don't worry if you get a little confused, it'll all become clearer in the end!! hope you enjoy!

ETA: Sorry guys! Reloaded the chapter after figuring out that Id replaced it with Chapter five my mistake!

"Ashes to Ashes"  
Part four… the twist.

He lay on the bed, his body rigid and unyielding as beads of sweat trickled over his pale skin. "Sammy…?" He managed a stutter, though his voice was hoarse and sore. The pillow beneath his head crinkled under the pressure as he moved his neck to the side, his eyes widening as they took in the tall, lanky stature of his younger brother standing beside him.

"Yeah, Dean?" He said, his tone nonchalant as he rubbed a smooth cloth over his sleek black handgun, examining it for a moment before placing it down on his bed and picking another. Dean scrubbed a disbelieving palm across his eyes, his voice cracking as he answered his little brother. "Um… nothin'. Just wondering…" He paused for a moment, trying to remember for the life of him what it was that they were hunting. "How we're going with the info on that 'wolf?"

Sam shrugged, "Well, I've pinned it down to two parts of the town. The forest—which is the most typical area for it to hang out in, but some kids have gone missing up by the lake, too, so…"

"We check out both." Dean finished, swinging his legs around the bed and rising to his feet. he reached for his well-worn leather jacket, swinging a glance towards the screen of his laptop before pocketing his keys, "I'll go check out the lake then."

The soft hum of the Impala's engine soothed his nerves as he leant back into the deep leather seats. Thoughts raced through his mind, blurred by confusion, but still there nonetheless. There was something… he'd done… was supposed to do… but what, exactly? He shrugged. He'd dreamt about something… but what was it? His thoughts were deterred from his reverie as a small, black shape darted across the road in front of him. Hunter's instincts kicked in, and he reached for his cell phone in his jacket pocket, pressed his finger against the speed-dial button and pulled it to his ear as he waited for his brother to pick up.

"Yeah, Sammy, reckon I've just found our missing puppy."


	5. Part Five

Author's Note: Okay, first I have to apologize. I'd totally forgotten about this story! (Which is what happens, I suppose, when you write a multichapter fic with no plan for it) But now I'm back, and I have a plan, and I hope you guys all enjoy it! This is sort of a filler chapter, and I can tell you now that this definitely _isn't_ going to turn out like you think it is. Trust me ;)

"Ashes to Ashes"

Part Five.

"_Yeah, Sammy, reckon I've just found our missing puppy."_

Sam jolted forward on impulse, adrenalin rushing through him as his feet struck heavily against the pavement underfoot. His sides heaved under the warm rays of sun, sullen and punishing against the tanned skin on his arms and face, perspiration trickling down his face and settling on the neckline of his shirt. He held his cell phone close to him in his hand, willing for it to ring, for Dean to call with an update, or just to tell Sam that he was still alive, still breathing. There'd been no time for Dean to travel back to their hotel room to collect Sammy before going after the 'wolf, and had ended the call with a hurried 'get here, quick, be safe, bring bullets'.

His head throbbed in synchronisation with the heavy beating of his heart, but he pushed on nervously, too scared to leave his brother alone too long with the dangerous creature, and afraid that he'd get there too late. He felt the weapon that he'd concealed in his belt rise up slowly along his back, but didn't dare stop to correct its position until he'd reached the small parklands where he'd made Dean promise to wait for him; made him promise to let the werewolf go if anything went south, even though the youngest doubted with every morsel of his being that Dean _would_ let it go.

He paid no attention to the yellow-green grass as it crumpled beneath his heavy footfalls, regret sinking in at the back of his mind that he hadn't thought to change into lighter shoes before setting out after Dean.

¯

Dean wracked with pain from the hit, doubled-over in the shadows of the creature's lair where he could only pray to God that Sam was coming, and coming _soon_. 'It', a grotesque, barely-human shaped figure, with gnawing teeth and bloodstained claws that Dean would not allow himself to think about, stood barely two feet away from him. It's eyes glowed an eerie black, clouded with the expression of an animal ready to attack.

He could remember a hunt, when Sam was small, and their father was too afraid to leave them on their own, when a werewolf had cornered John and beaten him almost to death; Dean had dragged his father's screaming mess of bones and blood out of there as best he could, but John had broken God-only-knows how many ribs, and had been hospitalised for a week on pain killers. He realised, now, that he couldn't afford for that to happen to him, not now; not with their search for Dad, and their own personal quest to slaughter the thing that killed his Mom. He had to save himself for _that_, for the big fight, not the little battles in between.

"Dean!"

He heard his brother's voice before he saw him, emerging from the shadows at a slow jog, all-guns-blazing at the damned beast before him. One good shoulder hit, and the 'wolf went down, clattered to the ground with a bang and screamed. Dean pressed himself against a wall as Sam fired again, a direct shot to the heart this time. Seconds later, Sam had joined him by the wall.

"You okay?"

Dean nodded in response, because no words seemed to be able to form in his mind. He watched as the werewolf wailed, limbs flailing for only a moment more before he fell still, blood pooling on the earthen floor beneath him.

Finding his words, Dean turned to Sam and clapped him on the back, deliberately missing the whole 'morphing back into a human' show. "Nice work, Sammy boy." They both knew there was a hidden, slightly muffled 'thanks' in the elder's words, and Sam smiled.

"Yeah, were would you be without me?" It was a question Sam had asked dozens of times as a kid, and Dean knew the drill.

"I'd crash and burn."


End file.
